


Something For You And Me

by Mekina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mekina/pseuds/Mekina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only room left in the motel has a king size bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something For You And Me

The Impala growled to a stop outside the first motel they could find. Dean shut off the engine and gestured impatiently at Sam. "Go in and get us a room."

"I did it at the last motel." Sam was already pushing the door open. It wasn't a big deal, he didn't really mind going in to get the room, but as the little brother, it was his job to complain and pull faces. Just like it was Dean's job to tell him to 'stop bitching and get on with it already, Sammy.'

"I would, if I wasn't covered in the guts of a giant glowing bat. Hurry up, I don't want to stay in Baby like this any longer than I have to."

Sam rolled his eyes, as was expected, and headed inside. He was pretty clean, at least compared to Dean. He had the mess all over his clothes and in his hair and everything. It was bad enough that he'd insisted on putting towels down on the seat to protect 'Baby'. That weird bat thing (still didn't know what it was, but silver and holy water sure as hell took care of it) had...well, popped. That was the only word for it. And the noise it had made when it exploded (all over Dean, the crazy idiot throwing himself in front of Sam like he thought there was danger from the creature's innards) was loud enough to get people calling the cops and them subsequently run out of town.

So here they were in the first motel they could find. It was pretty rundown from the looks of the outside, but not too bad by their standards. There had been (much) worse.

He went in to the small, shabby motel office. There was an older woman behind the counter. Late fifties to early sixties. Heavy. No threat.

Sam shook his head. He was too deep in the hunting life these days. Even back at Stanford, he must have been delusional to think he could ever escape. Hunting wasn't something you could get away from. Not ever, and after everything that had happened between then and now, he'd resigned himself to it. He was in it to the end.

"You alright there, hon?" The woman was looking at him in concern.

He put on the smile he used with witnesses, his I'm-trustworthy-you-can-tell-me-anything smile. "I'm fine. I need a room. Two queens."

"None of those free. Sorry, hon."

His smile slipped slightly, and he sighed. Dean would complain, and the beds would be too small, but... "Two twins?"

"Nope."

"You have no rooms free? Why does the sign outside say you have vacancies?" Sam asked, losing patience. Dean was a mess outside, and they were both tired, and he _really_ didn't want to get back in the car and go find another motel.

"There's just one free. King size bed."

He hesitated, deliberating. It would probably be pretty awkward, but surely not too bad. They used to share beds all the time when they were kids, right? It wasn't a big deal.

 _But it's different now_ , a voice in his head told him. _It's different, and you know it, and you don't care. You want to share a bed with him, get as close to him as you can. It's an excuse, you know it's the only way you can get so close to Dean._

He smiled at the woman and paid for the room.

Dean was outside of the car already when he left the office. He was scratching at the dried mess in his hair and shifting from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable is his crusty clothes. Served him right for trying to be a hero and diving in front of Sam like that. If he hadn't done that, he would be the (mostly) clean one.

"'Bout time, Sammy. What the hell took so long?" he demanded.

Sam shrugged and didn't answer. They were room number six. He unlocked the door and opened it, feeling weirdly nervous. It was ridiculous, it was just a bed. It didn't mean anything. He _wanted_ it to mean something, but it didn't. Just their bad luck.

"I got dibs on the first shower," Dean yelled, disappearing into the bathroom. He'd dropped his duffel just inside the door, hadn't even looked at the bed.

Great. So he would have his freak out when he finished showering.

Sam dropped onto the end of the bed and scratched his neck. He wasn't anywhere near as messy as Dean, but he hadn't escaped completely clean either. There was some of the gross crap on the back of his neck (how it had landed there was beyond him) and the bottom of his jeans. He couldn't wait to have his own shower and get into some clean clothes.

Dean was taking his sweet time, and probably using up all the hot water. He groaned. Great, probably a freezing cold shower waiting for him.

After about ten more minutes (yeah, there wasn't going to be any hot water left) the bathroom door opened, and Dean wandered out. In nothing but a towel.

They both froze; Dean stared at the bed, and Sam stared at Dean.

God, why hadn't he taken any clothes in with him? He was standing there half naked, skin all clean and pink, water droplets sliding down his skin that Sam wanted to lick up, and maybe that cold shower would be good after all, because all his blood was rushing south.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean said finally, looking from the bed to him and then back again.

Sam dragged his gaze up to Dean's face. "They didn't have any other rooms free."

"So you got this instead?" He waved at the bed. "We could have found another motel."

"You really wanted to drive around looking for one in the state you were in?" He kept his eyes firmly above Dean's neck, instead of ogling Dean's body like he wanted to. "It's not a big deal, Dean. We used to share a bed all the time when we were kids, right? You can put up with it for one night."

Dean swallowed, glancing at the bed one more time. "This blows, man. You'll probably roll over and suffocate me." He went over to his duffel.

Sam made a quick escape to the bathroom while Dean's back was turned. His brother was probably about to drop the towel, and he was having a hard enough time resisting the urge to jump him without even more skin being bared.

Just as he had expected, there was no hot water left. It was icy, and it killed his erection fast, so there was a plus. He washed as quickly as he could, but was still shivering by the time he turned the water off.

Unlike Dean, Sam had actually remembered to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him. He pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt quickly, and went back into the main room, cold all over.

Dean was already in the bed, scooted over to the very edge. He was flipping channels, but paused and looked over at Sam when he came out. "You look like a popsicle," he snorted, flipping back the blanket on the other side of the bed. "C'mere."

Sam sank onto the bed gratefully. "I wouldn't if you hadn't used up all the hot water, jerk."

"Your own fault for not being fast enough to get the first shower, bitch."

"Didn't give me a chance, Dean," he yawned, smiling. "Just barreled in and...mm..."

Dean muted the TV. "Go to sleep, Sammy."

He rolled over so that he was facing away from Dean, and did just that.

\---

When he woke up some indeterminate amount of time later, the first thing he noticed, blinking sleepily, was that it was quiet and dark. Dean must have switched off the light and TV at some point and gone to sleep himself.

And Dean was...

Sam went completely still, shocked. Dean was pressed right up against his back, chin on his shoulder and one hand low on his stomach, just above the waistband of his pants. As he lay there, trying desperately not to react to having his brother so close, Dean stirred.

"Mmm," he sighed, right into Sam's ear. He was rocking his hips against Sam's lower back. Wait. Was he- was he-

Holy shit. He was. Dean was hard, he could feel it, and was rubbing up against him. Heat rushed through him, and he got hard himself. How could he not, when Dean was practically wrapped around him, and breathing soft and slow, speeding up slightly now, in his ear?

He must have been having a good dream. Sam wondered who he was dreaming about. That waitress back in the town with the bat, the one who'd almost dropped the plates she was so busy staring at Dean, flirting shamelessly with her? Or someone else?

Dean moaned suddenly. " _Sammy._ "

What? Was he. No, there was no way, was there? Was he awake? "Dean?" he questioned cautiously.

Dean's movement ceased and his breathing changed, faster and more panicked sounding. He was awake. "What? Sam, I don't- oh, oh fuck."

Sam sat up and turned as Dean scrambled to the other side of the bed, looking at him in horror. "Dean."

Dean wouldn't meet his eyes, gaze darting everywhere, then focused on the door, like he was going to make a break for it. 

"Look at me, Dean. Come on." He leaned forward to grab Dean by the shoulder, force his attention back to himself, but Dean jerked backwards, almost falling off the bed.

"Sam, I think I should go sleep out in the car, it's better, I'll go, let's pretend this never happened in the morning, okay?" he babbled nervously.

What? "You're not going to sleep in the car, man. It's way too cold out there. Just calm down. What was that?" Sam had to know. He just had to. Had Dean been dreaming about him?

"I'm sorry," Dean breathed, looking ashamed. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to, I was asleep, I didn't, I just, sorry."

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Sammy, I-" Dean closed his eyes. "You, okay? I was dreaming about you."

Sam's head spun. Dean _had_ been dreaming about him, and from the way he was acting (guilty) this didn't seem like a freak one time thing. It seemed like this was something he'd been dealing with for awhile. That he wanted Sam the way Sam wanted him.

"Oh my god," he said. All along? Maybe the whole time he'd been struggling with this want and these feelings (since a couple months after Standford) Dean had felt the same way? They'd both been hiding it from the other, and Dean had probably been just as disgusted and ashamed of himself as Sam had been, at first. Even more so, knowing Dean. He laughed out loud in disbelief.

Dean flinched. "I know. I'm sorry. I never would have done anything awake, Sam, I swear. If you," he took a deep breath. "If you want to go, I understand. I'm so sorry."

Wait, what? Go? Dean was getting exactly the wrong idea. There were a lot of things Sam wanted to do right then, but leaving was definitely not one of them. He chose number one off of the list and grabbed Dean before he could dodge.

"Sam, wh-" was all Dean got out before Sam kissed him. It was a bad angle, and he probably had bad breath or something, but at the same time it was amazing because it was _Dean_. His lips were even softer than they looked, and kind of chapped.

Dean was rigid as a plank of wood for a few seconds, then he just melted against Sam, hands finding their way into his hair and pulling him closer, opening his mouth when Sam teased at his lips with his tongue.

And then he was holding nothing but air, Dean abruptly out of his arms and across the room by the window, eyes huge. "Dean?"

"We can't do that, Sam."

"What?" Sam gaped at him. He wanted it, didn't he? He'd been dreaming about him, he kissed back. They both wanted it, what was the problem? Maybe Dean didn't realize he wanted it as well. Maybe he thought Sam was just going along with it because Dean wanted it. "It's okay, Dean. I want it to."

"Sammy, no. It's not right," Dean insisted. "I'm not supposed to, we can't."

Sam stood up from the bed and advanced on Dean. "What do you mean you aren't supposed to? Why can't you let yourself have something for once?"

"I'm not, I'm your big brother." Dean stood his ground as Sam came to stand right in front of him, blocking him from making a run for it. "It's my job to look after you, you know that. And, and kissing you, touching you like that, Sam, that's not looking after you. Even just wanting to do that with you, that's not protecting you like I should be. I'm the one you need protecting from!"

"Dean, stop." He was right up in Dean's space, so close he could feel the puffs of air from his brother's breaths. "I don't need to be protected. I'm an adult. You aren't a danger to me. I told you, I want you too. It isn't like you'd be forcing me."

"It isn't right," Dean repeated, but it seemed like his resolve was faltering.

"Why?" Sam whispered, cupping Dean's face with one hand.

"We're brothers."

"I know we are. And?" He slid his other hand down Dean's chest.

"It's- brothers don't, shouldn't." He was definitely about to give in, Sam could tell.

Sam curled his fingers in the waistband of Dean's boxers, not making any move to pull them down, not yet, just barely touching a sliver of skin underneath. "So what?"

"So, so we aren't supposed to, that's just how it- _fuck!_ " His head hit the wall with a bang as Sam shoved his hand into Dean's shorts, wrapping his fingers around Dean's dick, which was rapidly hardening as he pulled it out.

He was torn between watching Dean's face as he stroke him slowly and watching the motion of his hand along Dean's dick. "What were you saying, Dean? We aren't supposed to do this, huh? You want me to stop?" He slowed down, as though he was going to do just that. (Though in reality even if the FBI busted in with guns pointed he didn't think he would stop.)

"Oh, fuck, Sammy," Dean groaned as he sped up, hips shoving forward seemingly of their own accord. "If you stop, I'll -shit, just like that- kill you. Don't you dare."

If he'd known it was that easy to get Dean to give in, he wouldn't have bothered with talking. He twisted his wrist and rubbed his thumb firmly under the head. He was hard and aching himself, from doing this and listening to Dean's moans. God, he sounded like a porn star. Was he usually this loud? He tried to remember, he'd been in the room for more than a few of Dean's hookups, but he couldn't concentrate on the faraway images of Dean with those women, not when he had his brother right in front of him.

"Sammy, I- fuck, oh fuck, S- _Sammy!_ " With a loud cry, he came all over Sam's hand and shirt.

Sam kept his hand moving through the aftershocks, until Dean groaned and shoved at his arm. He tucked him back into his boxers, then reached for his sweatpants. He couldn't wait any longer, if he didn't come in .2 seconds he was going to explode. He was about to push them down when Dean sank to his knees in front of him.

"Jesus, Dean," he murmured, looking down at his brother, who was staring at the bulge his cock made through his pants with determination. It was obvious what he was down there to do. "You, uh, you don't have to do that."

"I want to," Dean said firmly, tugging down his pants and taking him in hand.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No," Dean answered before guiding the head of Sam's dick into his mouth.

Sam's knees almost buckled because god, Dean's mouth was so warm and wet and just damn _perfect_. He put his hands on the wall in front of him, leaning on it. He believed that Dean hadn't done it before because, well, he wasn't very skilled. His teeth scraped against him once or twice, which hurt, and he gagged if he tried to take too much at once, but he was trying so hard it more than made up for it. Besides, there was something in Sam that was glad that he was the first one Dean had ever done this for. (And, hopefully, the _only_ one, ever.)

He looked down. The fact that Dean was doing this, was on his knees in front of him, god, that was just...

Damn, Dean learned fast. He'd wrapped his hand around what he couldn't fit in his mouth, and was swirling his tongue around and bobbing his head, and...

He patted at Dean's head in warning. "Dean, I, shit, I'm close." When he didn't pull off, Sam said more insistently, "Dean, I'm- I don't wanna choke you, c'mon."

Dean freed his mouth just long enough to say, "Yeah, Sammy, do it. I want it," then went back down.

That was it, he couldn't hold back any longer. He came, gasping, into Dean's mouth, watching his throat work as he swallowed. Finally, Dean pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up, pulling Sam's pants back up as he went.

They stared at each other. Dean looked...nervous? "Sam, are we alright?"

Instead of answering with words, Sam pulled him close and kissed him, licking into his mouth and tasting himself. He broke the kiss after a minute and rested his forehead against Dean's. "I think we're fine, Dean. Now let's put that king size bed to use."

It took a few moments, but then Dean grinned. "Yeah, let's." He yanked Sam's shirt over his head and shoved him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down. Then Dean was there, on his lap kissing him hungrily.

He told himself to give that motel woman a big tip when they checked out. And possibly his undying gratitude.

Maybe he would just stick with the tip.


End file.
